


Let The Only Sound

by fiach_dubh



Series: Pirate Molly AU [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: BDSM, Boot Worship, Boot kink?, Come Eating, It's short and it's kinky, Kink, M/M, Short, Submission, media res
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 23:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18271550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiach_dubh/pseuds/fiach_dubh
Summary: There are many ways to submit. Caleb likes this one best.





	Let The Only Sound

Molly is on a throne, which is where he belongs. He looks very fine, seated on gold and velvet, bare aside from the salt-stained leather boots that Caleb loves so dear. Caleb loves Molly more than the boots, but right now the boots are what he sees. Creased with his movements, worn down at the heels. Caleb wonders every time Molly lets him touch that bright, beautiful skin. He doesn't deserve it. He barely deserves to lick Molly's boots. 

There are many ways to submit. Molly likes to do it with games, with ropes, with strikes to his pretty face and pretty ass, with a hand around his throat. He likes to fight and joke and play, red eyes glinting. He likes to be called names. Caleb couldn’t bring himself to at first - him, calling Molly such awful things - but he loves it so much it woke something up in Caleb. Now he does it, from love.

Caleb himself prefers to submit in the way of a subject to his king, a worshiper to his god. He will do what is asked, and whatever notice or attention he gets is more than enough. He will suck Molly for hours, if he wishes. Lick his asshole. Worship him from toe to the final hair on top of his beautiful head. 

So now, he is on his knees. He is hard, but that doesn’t matter. He will come only if Molly wishes him to. Sometimes he wants Molly to deny him it entirely. What matters more is Molly’s hardness, his curved, ridged, beautiful cock, in front of his eyes and denied him.

“You think you’ve earned it?” Molly asks him, and that’s Captain right now because he’s sprawled in the throne like the most decadent and corrupt of Pirate Kings.

“No, Captain,” he says, because he hasn’t. He never will. He has been terrible things and has never earned what Molly gives him freely and happily out of love and light-hearted pleasure, but he gets it anyway. This - nights like this - they are how he shows his gratitude, his joy, his delight, his love.

Molly strokes his cock and a clear bead of liquid forms on the top. Caleb aches to taste it.

Molly extends one foot in those boots. Caleb knows what to do. He has done it before. He bends and presses a kiss to the toe. Above him Molly sucks in a breath.

“Good boy,” he says. It makes Caleb shiver.

“I was thinking,” Molly says, like it wasn’t planned all along, like it was an idea that came to him right this moment. Beautiful, capricious, selfish King. Another game, of sorts. “I was thinking you might want to rut on these boots, since you like them so. And if you’re very good, I might come on your face.”

He pushes his boot out, harder and more forceful, between Caleb’s spread legs. He smiles, a little meanly. Caleb is his plaything, his loyal pet. Caleb loves him more than he loves anything else that has ever been. Caleb will do as he asks. That Caleb likes the idea - loves the idea of frotting against the boots that Molly wears every day is almost secondary. Molly wants him to, which is best.

“If you come on my boots,” Molly says, grin bright and sharp, “You’ll have to clean them off with your tongue.”

Caleb wants that very much.

It is too dry, at first, the soft creasing of the leather far too much friction under the tender head of his cock. But Molly is gazing down at him and he wants so badly to be good, and in time his own precome slicks the way. He is wet and wanting and desperate and Molly is above him hot-eyed and regal. He goes faster. The grain of the leather works at him. It is not as good as being inside Molly, or between his smooth strong thighs, or having Molly inside him, but it is also better because Molly wants this right now.

Molly is stroking his prick. Molly’s mouth is open, his breath harsh and short. He likes this. He likes Caleb desperate and rubbing himself on Molly’s boots and serving him like Molly deserves. Molly likes a lot of things and Caleb is always happy to give him them, but right now Molly likes this. Molly -

Molly Molly Molly Molly Molly -

He comes, almost as a surprise, white over the faded black boots. He pants for a moment, before he remembers what Molly said he would have to do. He is willing. He is more than willing, he is eager. Every drop of his come, every single scrap, cleaned off those boots with his own tongue. He is barely worthy to clean Molly’s boots, but he will do it, if asked.

Molly moans, tilts his head back. The lamplight catches the line of his jaw, the glimmer of one sharp tooth. Caleb watches in wonder.

Molly looks back down at him and says “Look at me. Mouth open, tongue out.” Caleb does. He is happy for this, for Molly working his own cock with a fierce and desperate determination, and for the inevitable - streaks of hot, bitter come on his face, across his tongue. He swallows what he can and leaves the rest. His King has marked him. He is loved.

Molly leans down, all tenderness now. One tiefling-hot palm on his filthy cheek.

“Oh, Caleb,” he says. “I love you so much.”

Caleb is muzzy. “Thank you,” he says.

It must be right, it must be enough, because Molly smiles. 

He loves Molly. No matter what they do, he’s happy. Right now, though, he has had exactly what he wanted so he is better than happy. He is content.

**Author's Note:**

> I SWEAR I don't have a boot kink.


End file.
